


Clouds Against the Wind

by Nonetoowell



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Parent Fic, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonetoowell/pseuds/Nonetoowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting and subtle gumption; snippets of how Mako and Bolin's parents met and lived. (Pure headcanon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clouds Against the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I can't really say what possessed me to write this beyond really wanting to have a finished work again and liking the idea. The show probably won't go into who Mako and Bolin's parents were, so I figured why not have some fun with it? Criticism welcome.

She was the most austere woman he had ever seen, and he had met a lot of people in his life. He guessed her to be a librarian with the way she pulled back her thick black hair, furrowed her highly arched brows, and held her thin lips so tightly. That and the book she was so clearly lost in may have been a hint.

He usually liked to take in faces and let them pass by, reveling in the anonymity of a country boy wandering lost in the big bad Republic City.

But he just had to know what was so interesting about that book.

.

The book was titled, 'Firebending and its Post-War Role in the Economy: Five Theories,' and she wasn't a librarian. Really he would have laughed, but she had given him this look that told him he definitely shouldn't do that and he ended up asking where the nearest teahouse was in a panic.

"Six streets over, down by the markets." He nodded enthusiastically, more taken by the way she slightly frowned than remembering directions. "You have no idea where that is, do you?" she asked with a sigh, seeing the faraway look in his eyes.

"Ah, no… I'm new in town," he admitted, having enough sense of presence to act somewhat consolatory. He had, after all, just waltzed up to her and asked what library she worked at. Her immediate discomfort and confusion at his sudden address made him see what an idiot he had been. Hopefully he hadn't scared her too badly, as he was quickly coming to realize she was shy rather than severe.

She looked him over, trying to come to a decision, and he rather liked how she twitched the corners of her mouth even lower while she did it.

"I suppose I'll show you then…"

"Oh, well, that's really not necessary-"

"There are a lot of gangs in this part of town. I'll show you the way they usually stay away from," she cut him off, tucking her book away and allowing a carriage to pass before crossing the street. He found the way she walked quite graceful, if a little too quick for his more steady pace.

Running to catch up, he shot his hand out to her. "Name's Guo. Thanks for the help."

She looked up at his face for a moment, amber eyes ever so slightly widening in surprise. "Hatsu," she answered softly, her small hand barely feeling like anything as she took his in a less than firm handshake. Then, an awkward but friendly smile softened up her face quite beautifully when she asked, "Where are you from?"  
.

"Seven sisters?" She squawked, her voice the loudest it had been the entire afternoon as she clutched her third cup of tea. Her eyes looked about ready to pop out of her head as he talked about his family life.

"Yup. Every one of them older and every one of them an earthbender."

"And you're not?" she asked anxiously, mind conjuring visions of one lone boy pitched against seven angry women of destructive power.

"No," he admitted easily, having made peace with his luck of the draw long ago, "Not that it was all bad. The second eldest, Biyu, adored me. Though, when I was a toddler she thought it was funny to dress me up. Thankfully we were too poor for photography back then."

She gave a small twitch of a smile before growing serious again. "Is that why you left and came here?" She was quite curious, he was happy to find, her heavily instilled sense of propriety being what kept her from barraging him with questions.

"Oh, nah. I came here after doing some migrant farming for a few years. All my sisters left home when my parents died and I couldn't run the place on my own, you see."

"That's awful."

He didn't know how to take her sincerity, her face drawn up as if she were devastated too. He knew he appreciated it though, and that he very much didn't like seeing her upset.

"Hey, I'm a big strong guy. Besides, I made it here didn't I? Place is amazing." He threw his arms around toward the walls of the store, the waitress frowning over at him in disapproval.

"The city is quite spectacular, even after living here awhile," she admitted, grinning at her hands in her lap.

"How long have you lived here?" he asked, draining his cup and waving for a refill. The waitress shot him another dirty look that he returned with a disarming grin.

"My grandparents came with me here when I was a baby. This city is all I've known." She finished her drink once more, but politely kept the waitress from pouring her another when she finally came over. "My family's from the Fire Nation… Um, all of us are benders."

"No kidding? Know any cool moves?" he asked, remembering all the stories he heard from his father's friends about the war and the vicious ferocity of firebenders.

"Not really. My grandfather taught me a bit, but I'm not… I like to avoid conflict when I can, to be honest," she answered softly, picking at her skirt.

"That's great," he said with a laugh, "I used to cause lots of problems fighting back home. Maybe you can keep me out of trouble?" He didn't think much of the implications he just made until he saw the bright blush on her face.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean- what I was trying to say was, you're very nice," he stuttered, leaning forward and trying not to blush himself. "I don't have a lot of friends here, obviously, and maybe we could get to know each other- like friends. Doing friendly things, like friends."

"I'd like that," she answered, composing herself, which helped Guo calm down. "I'm a seamstress, so my hours are long. But I get full days off, usually Mondays. I could help you find your way around the city." Her face brightened up so much when she made her offer that Guo wondered if he could ever tell her 'no' to anything.

"Perfect!" He felt his face almost hurt from the grin he was giving, and she made her own effort back. "As a thanks, I'll pay for today."

"That's quite alright, I'll get it. You're new in town and probably looking for work, right?"

"Please, I insist. I could never show my face in public if I let a nice lady pay for a bum's tea," he argued lightly

"We'll split then," she decided warmly, firmly placing her half of coins down on the table. Guo shrugged, pleasantly surprised with her decisiveness. Avoid conflict indeed…

.

They kept their regular meetings; either at the teahouse or the library that Hatsu practically lived in when she didn't work. He willed away the hours in between wandering the city looking for a job or place to live. All of them he found to be too far away from the busy side streets Hatsu frequented. Though, she finally cottoned on to his troubles one day and would have none of it.

"You need to find some work, Guo. Your money's going to run out eventually," she admonished quietly over a stack of books at him. He had been leafing through some old newspapers, staring at the black and white photos and letting his mind wander.

"All the jobs are on other side of town and for benders only," he countered lightly, "Can you imagine me in the water facility? Or that 'electric plant' they set up? They're teaching all those guys how to make lightening."

"So?" she said in a higher pitch, looking around to make sure no one else was disturbed by her outburst. "Listen, you keep this up, the Triads are going to corner you and you won't have much of a choice with anything. They don't like strange guys just hanging out in their turf unaccounted for."

"Alright, alright, I get the point. I'll look harder," he sighed, pouting at the picture of some CEO waving to a crowd. "How about when I get a job, I finally treat you to dinner? A proper one and not that stall food junk."

"That stall food junk is perfectly fine, and splitting the tab has never been a problem for me," she answered with a glare at her book. Today she was reading, 'Transitional Politics in the Modern Era: From Divine Right to Where?'

"I don't mean to say it's a problem. I was thinking making it more like a…" he trailed off when she looked up at him, almost expectantly. "… a motivator."

"Oh, alright," she said, her smile insincere when she turned back to her reading.

.

He finally found a job. Though it was far from glamorous and demanded long hours of hard labor through a graveyard shift, he could still meet with Hatsu on Mondays, which was all that mattered.

"I'm happy that you're making time to see me, Guo," she said one cold winter morning, poking him awake so he'd stop drooling on the books, "But maybe you should take a day to yourself and get some rest. You work nights don't you?"

"I'm fine," he insisted. Her expression conveyed disbelief but she never bothered to point out his lies, they both had a mutual understanding of when he was full of it. Today she let her amused yet exasperated expression linger a little longer, eyes trailing down him in ways that made his stomach flip.

"You know, you still owe me a meal," she suddenly reminded him, her tone joking and jolting him out of the sleepy stupor he had slipped in.

He suddenly felt like an ass. He did promise, even if that wasn't exactly what he wanted to ask her. But he hadn't had the energy to ask her again, her disappointment after she agreed the first time still haunting him.

"You're right, I do," he said with a tired smile and uncrossing his arms, "I'm at your disposal."

"Good," she said, and then seeing that he was about to cut in she went on, "But only after you've gotten some proper sleep. Deal?"

"Anything you say," he said with a laugh, "Your other orders, ma'am?"

"None," she answered, opening her book again and looking pleased at getting her way, "just that you get rest and take me on a date."

"Out," his nerves corrected automatically, and he wanted a rock to knock him upside the head so very badly.

"Yes, out," she agreed primly, smiling secretively at her book, "Out on a date."

"I-well, you know, I'm uh… I'm sorry. I should have asked you that first time," he finally settled on after sputtering a few moments, wondering how long she had been so in charge. Probably since they first met.

"Yes, but that's alright. Now I get to pick where we go." She had a confident if slight smirk and he was excited to find out what he had just gotten into.

.

She liked to knit, he came to find. Well, she at least tried to knit. Really she would pour all of her frustration through the two needles, purling and stitching so tightly that most of her projects ended up as lumpy bundles of yarn at the end. But he didn't mind the mess, considering that she would look tired yet calm when she was done. He could eventually tell what kind of day she had just from how many rows she ended up doing.

He never put much stock in her skill until she threw a red scarf around his neck one day just as he was about to leave for work through the foreboding dark that settled on the lesser parts of the city.

"What's this?" he asked, pulling at the cloth and crossing his eyes at it to get a better look.

"The docks get cold at night. So, I made you a scarf," she said nonchalantly, as if she had just told him the stock value of cabbages. "What?" she then asked with a perk of her fine brow and some amusement when his eyes finally left the scarf and met hers.

He knew he shouldn't be surprised at how touched he felt, no one ever having just given him something before. Everything had to be earned, from rent to his parent's rather cool affection.

Honestly, it was only natural that he had started to tear up a little. But her laugh was clear and wonderful like a bell, and he joined in after wiping his eyes.

.

The place was one of the many row homes lined endlessly up and down the crowded inner city, and far from his first pick. The deal was sealed when she looked out the back door to see a pathetic patch of dirt that would serve as a yard, rusted poles that were supposed to be clothesline punctuating the state of the neighborhood.

"I could plant a garden there," she mumbled to herself excitedly, staring out the window from the cramped kitchen with one of those looks she only got when she was lost in a book.

The rent was more than he had wanted, but he really could never tell her 'no.' Especially when he could picture them growing old there together.

She would pull weeds from that sorry yard until her joints ached, never complaining because she liked the work and she needed to keep busy since the kids moved away. He'd grumble about getting too fat to navigate the narrow hallways, saying how they should sell and never following through because there were too many memories to simply let go of.

"We'll take it," he told the landlord, sliding on his most charming grin.

Might as well try to haggle.

.

Three years and one kid later, he had finally fallen into a contentedly boring routine.

He'd get home in the morning, bundle Mako out of Hatsu's arms and let her catch up on the sleep she must have missed consoling a fussy baby most the night. She'd argue that he must have been more tired than she was, but he'd gently push her toward the bed and remind her that he liked to spend time with their son too.

That particular morning was the first time Mako had slept almost the whole night, and Guo had found himself with nothing to do as Hatsu milled about the house cleaning and peeking in on the baby every so often.

He sat back in the old creaky chair he favored, having always conceded the one by the stove to Hatsu. He opened the paper, preparing to unwind from a particularly demanding shift at the docks when he heard Hatsu's humming cut off suddenly.

"Guo!" he heard her call, and her voice sounded oddly strained. He threw down his paper and leapt over the table in a panic, charging into the bedroom and skidding to a halt.

She was kneeling by the crib, Mako peering over the wooden panels with neutral curiosity as she patted out the dying flames from the now horribly singed rug.

"Why'd you set the rug on fire?" he asked unthinkingly.

"It wasn't me."

.

Mako's early childhood wasn't all that rough on them. He had his mother to teach him how to control his bending, passing on the few techniques her grandfather taught her. Still, Guo was really going to miss his favorite chair, the casualty of one overly enthusiastic experiment.

Bolin, on the other hand, turned out to be quite a handful. He was a happy child. So very happy, in fact, that they had to replace the back windows six times before they finally sought help.

Guo was sorry that his only experience with earthbending was dodging every time his sister threw a volatile fit. Hatsu did her best, being incredibly studious and treating earth as a close second to fire in her library ventures. Still, neither one of them knew the first thing about teaching a toddler how to stop accidently sending rocks into the kitchen. Thankfully, their elderly neighbor was a former military man who retired to Republic City from Ba Sing Se. At least, that's what Guo always assumed, considering he never had the nerve to ask what his job exactly had been. For someone in their early eighties, the man was rather intimidating. But despite the off-putting demeanor, he instilled some self control in Bolin that Hatsu's garden was quite grateful for.

So when the old geezer finally passed away, Guo was rather upset. Hatsu, the boys and he ended up being the only attendees at the funeral, and the man had no particularly personal belongings to pass on to anyone. He barely managed to keep the lump in his throat down when Bolin had shyly asked his brother where his teacher went, Mako simply hugging him in answer.

Guo made sure to leave an offering at the plain gravesite at least once a week, trying not to think of how lonely his own funeral would be.

.

Hatsu's favorite team was the Black Quarry Boar-q-Pines, and her favorite player was Captain Toza. He always felt vague amusement rather than jealousy over her love of the talented pro-bender, finding the way she'd mutter curses at the radio he had bought her despite money troubles nothing short of adorable.

Her enthusiasm, even when kept tightly constrained, was always palpable. Bolin was the most easily effected by her moods, frequently crawling into her lap and staring at the radio with her. He'd giggle happily every time the Boar-q-Pines scored, feeling the excitement radiate from her body even when the team's winning streak had come to an end. She'd hug him a little closer, patting his head and letting out one of those soft amused chuckles that he lived every second of his life waiting to hear.

.

As the boys started to grow a little older it became strikingly obvious that Mako had the most of her, right down to her favorite frown. Guo tried not to laugh when his son would ask a childishly naïve question with the grim determination of a soldier. But he just couldn't help himself. He'd always find himself scooping the little boy up and making it his personal mission to see that seriousness crack. The painfully happy smile when it did being all hers too.

.

Bolin had been sick and Guo didn't know if they could afford a doctor. But his uncertainty hardly mattered when the six-year-old started running a bad fever, unable to tell where and when he was with agony contorting the face usually lit with a sunshiny disposition.

The doctors ended up quarantining him to his horror, and Hatsu had had a hard time keeping her voice steady when she asked how long they thought that would last.

The next week was spent with unease, Mako wandering in and out of their shared bedroom, as if unsure he should be in there. Hatsu had taken to knitting with more intensity, her marathon sessions often interrupted when she'd get up and go to the kitchen to cry in private. He had tried to comfort her once, but she was the type of person who needed space when she was upset and he had only been rebuffed.

For his part he simply sat at home and went to work with a numb sense of dread. Disease was far from new to him, and he had seen many parents bury their children back home. But to actually deal with the possibility made him wish he had done something for those blurred memories, their faces always buried in their hands to hide their heart break.

With a sense of nausea, he had decided to go down to the carpenter to make some arrangements when the doctor sent them a letter.

Bolin's fever had finally broken and they expected him to fully recover in a few days.

Guo didn't bother covering his face, openly weeping with relief in plain view of the street.

.

Mako's face was hard and set with that determined expression that Guo knew came from his half of the family. He kneeled next him, smiling defiantly at the stricken worry radiating from the boy as he lightly threw his scarf around his thin young shoulders. Mako looked up at him with both surprise and confusion, becoming his mother once again.

"That scarf has a lot of warmth and love in it, and we can't have you getting sick either can we?" he said, ruffling Mako's hair as his son looked down at the scarf almost reverently.

Hatsu walked in just then, adjusting her coat and looking between the scarf, Mako, and Guo. She smiled with a huff, asking them if they were ready, Bolin having finally been cleared to return home. Mako jumped to his feet, nodding to his mother and clutching at the scarf.

"I'll make us dumplings when we all get back," she told him softly, taking his small hand in hers and waiting for Guo to follow, which he always did.

.

His first thoughts were ones of regret.

How he could never admit to Hatsu that Biyu had ran off with a man at a young age and that his other sisters all died of typhoid before they hit puberty. How he placed a bet on her favorite pro-bender so they could pay the hospital bills after Bolin was born, even though they were on the verge of losing the house. How he was so sorry that their sons were going to be on their own before the end of the night. How Mako saw everything and he wasn't sure if the hiding place he shoved him in was good enough.

But as his vision started to fade and the pain slowly going with it, he could feel the faint pressure of her hand on his face as he looked at her unseeingly, just as bewitched as he was on that street so many years ago. Her hair was a mess, and he had the stray thought of how she hated it in her face, blood slowly seeping out of her mouth as she too was breathing her last moments. But she smiled at him with painful reassurance, giving him something he could never repay in a thousand lifetimes.

The cold from the snow seeping into his clothes finally numbed him to everything, allowing him to close his eyes and desperately hope that life would be just as good to his sons and a hundred times longer.


End file.
